


Wingman

by AVegetarianCannibal



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: A tiny amount of angst, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drinking, Fluff, Friendship, Idiots in Love, M/M, Misunderstandings, Season 1, idiots being idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 02:27:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11198532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVegetarianCannibal/pseuds/AVegetarianCannibal
Summary: Hannibal and Will attempt being wingmen for each other, and they're both pretty terrible at it.





	Wingman

Will was supposed to be serving as Hannibal’s wingman, and Hannibal as his. That wasn’t the term Hannibal had used when he proposed this little outing, but terminology wasn’t as relevant as actuality. And the actually of the situation was that Will Graham was currently sitting in an upscale bar in downtown Baltimore, trying to be subtle while scoping the place for a hookup for his friend. His therapist? His… _whatever_.

“I don’t really know what to do,” Will whispered into his tumbler of scotch and soda.

“You have a keen eye for people,” Hannibal said. “Simply use it to my benefit, and I’ll do the same for you.”

“I have a keen eye for _murderers_ ,” Will reminded him.

“I’m not averse to a little danger for the night,” Hannibal said, giving him a smile over the rim of his wine glass.

Will sighed. “Maybe if you picked someone out and I could just…talk you up to them,” he says. “Although I don’t really see how much good that would do.”

Hannibal flinched ever so slightly. “Am I beyond even your most enthusiastic promotion?”

Heat burst into Will’s face as he hurried to explain himself. “That–that’s not what I meant. I meant the opposite! I meant…you kinda speak for yourself. You’re a successful, good-looking doctor. Why would you even _need_ me to talk you up?”

“It’s a social exercise for us both,” Hannibal said. “Shall I start for you? And thank you, by the way.”

Will shrugged, which Hannibal took as his permission. He set down his wine glass and made his way down the to the end of the bar where a pretty brunette was sitting. She lit up as soon as Hannibal slid onto the stool next to her. They seemed to talk easily, laughing at unheard jokes. Hannibal directed her attention to where Will was sitting, and she wiggled her fingers in a small but friendly wave. Will had no idea what to do. Should he join them and let Hannibal introduce him to her? Should he send her a drink? He opted for plastering a smile on his face and waving back. He felt like an idiot.

After a few minutes, Hannibal returned to his side. The brunette watched after him for a moment, then occupied herself by stirring her drink.

“Well?” Will asked.

Hannibal sniffed in a slight scoff. “Celia doesn’t like dogs. Hates them, in fact.”

Will blinked at him. “Did she like _me_? Or whatever you _said_ about me?”

“I didn’t think it would be a good match,” Hannibal said.

“ _For a one-night stand?!_ ”

Hannibal bristled, perhaps at the incredulous tone of the question. “Incompatibility on such a fundamental level doesn’t bode well for compatibility even for a single night. I’m merely keeping your interests at heart.”

Will just barely managed to keep from rolling his eyes. “Maybe we should approach someone together.”

Without waiting for an answer, he glanced around the bar until he saw two women sitting together in the lounge area. Both fashionably dressed redheads, they reminded Will of Freddie Lounds. He forced the association out of his mind as best he could.

He waited until he caught their attention and flashed them what he hoped was a fairly normal-looking smile. To his surprise, they both smiled back. 

Will crossed the room towards them, clutching his drink in a death grip. Hannibal followed a moment after.

“Could we keep you company for a bit?” Will asked.

The women looked nearly identical, even to a forensically trained eye. The one wearing a burgundy jacket gestured towards two chairs opposite their own. The other one, wearing black leather, barely looked at him, and instead gazed at Hannibal with fairly blatant interest. She was practically undressing Hannibal with her eyes.

“I’m Katrin,” she all but purred, extending her hand. “This is my sister Katlin.”

“That would explain your equally incomparable beauty,” Hannibal said, kissing the tops of their hands in turn. “I’m Hannibal, and this is my friend Will. He had the good fortune to spy you across this crowded bar.”

This time, Will didn’t even try to keep from rolling his eyes, more at the hand kissing than at the introduction.

“So are you two from ‘round here?” he asked.

“We’re pharmaceutical reps from New York,” Katlin said. “Just passing through, I’m afraid.”

“What she means,” Katrin said, “is that we hope to make the most of our one night in Baltimore.”

Hannibal proceeded to do most of the talking while Will nodded or mumbled like a moron when he seemed to be required to offer some kind of input. Once again he wondered what he was really even supposed to be doing. He’d never had many friends, and didn’t have _any_ when he was in college during his prime wingman years. He’d been to bars a few times with his fellow cops, but the snug-fitting uniforms did most of the talking. It wasn’t like anybody had to talk themselves up, or do the same for a friend.

He slowly became aware that he’d missed a cue to say something. Everyone was staring at him, expectant. He replayed the last few moments of conversation in his mind and realized Katlin had asked what he did for a living.

“I’m a teacher,” he finally said.

“Influencing young minds is _so_ important,” she said.

“I’m afraid Will is being modest,” Hannibal said. “He teaches at Quantico. He is, in fact, influencing the next generation of crack FBI agents.”

The sisters both made impressed sounds.

“He also helps solve murders for the FBI,” Hannibal went on. “They’d be lost without his amazing mind.”

“I do what I can,” Will said, blushing. Katlin was now regarding him with as much open lust as her sister had for Hannibal. She shifted in her seat so she could brush his knee with her own.

“He’s being modest again,” Hannibal said. “Our dear Will here can think like a killer.”

Will’s jaw fell open so quickly he nearly dribbled whiskey down his chin. He could think like a killer—could think like _anybody!_ —but he was hard pressed to figure out why in the hell Hannibal had divulged such a morbid detail about his work, life, and mindset. He turned to look at Hannibal, but Hannibal’s expression offered no clues. He simply regarded Will with the same twinkling-eyed expression he always did.

“Hannibal is a psychiatrist,” Will said when he’d gotten his wits about him again. “He used to be a surgeon but his patients kept dying!”

Katlin and Katrin’s expressions faltered slightly.

Katrin was the first to recover. “Look,” she sighed, “we have to be on a plane to Cleveland in just over nine hours, so we kinda need to know if you two are up for some sort of foursome situation tonight or not.”

“We don’t do stuff with each other,” Katlin hurried to say, “but we’re into both of you and we don’t mind if y'all wanna cross swords.”

“That’d be pretty hot, actually,” Katrin said.

Will was about to ask what she meant by crossing swords, but as soon as he thought of the question a visual came to mind and answered it for him. His first instinct was to protest. Hannibal was, after all, his friend… therapist… _whatever_. He wasn’t sure what touching dicks would do to… _whatever_ …their relationship currently was. He couldn’t even imagine Hannibal wanting to do such a thing. He'd certainly never given any indication.

The visuals in his mind’s eye suddenly turned to the sisters having their way with Hannibal, crawling all over him, kissing his body in… _places_. All while Will sat off to the side with his dejected sword, nodding like a moron, unsure of what his entry point was. So to speak.

“We could be up for a foursome,” Will said, carefully choosing his words. “But first I gotta ask how you both feel about dogs.”

The sisters donned simultaneous moues of mingled confusion and disgust.

“Wh-what the hell kind of _pervert_ are you?” Katrin sputtered. “Dogs?! I mean… _good fucking God!_ ”

She grabbed Katlin’s hand and dragged her across the bar, as far away from the two of them as possible.

Hannibal gave him a curious look.

“ _You’re_ the one who said I should be compatible with someone,” Will explained with a shrug.

Things continued on in much the same way for the next hour or so as they went about approaching women both singly and as a pair. They’d met a doctor named Luisa, a local artist named Jayne (she spelled it for them to make sure they heard the y), and a woman in an expensive-looking gray dress whose name Will didn’t get before Hannibal made him sound like a freak again.

Will waited until she’d scurried away before turning to Hannibal.

“Why on _earth_ did you blurt that out like that?!”

“I told you before—”

“Oh come the fuck _on_ ,” Will interrupted. “I’m not sold on only being sexually compatible with people who support my canine rescuing habits, but introducing me to someone as ‘here’s my pal Will Graham he sleeps with a lot of dogs’ is just bizarre!”

Hannibal lifted his chin. “I believe I said friend, not pal.”

Now Will was just plain suspicious. Hannibal, as socially expert as he was, couldn’t possibly think he was doing an acceptable job as wingman.

“What kind of social exercise is this, exactly?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You called this outing a social exercise when you proposed it,” Will reminded him. “Did you ever intend for me to hook up with someone? Or are you just psychoanalyzing the way I interact with people?”

“I admit I’m somewhat taken aback by the accusation,” Hannibal said.

Will threw up his hands. “Then _why_ do you keep sabotaging me?”

“You all but called _me_ a murder to those twins,” Hannibal said. “And! _And!_ You practically invited them to a night of bestiality! If I’m doing any sabotaging, at least I’m not the only one.”

Hannibal didn’t wait for a response before stalking off towards the restrooms, leaving Will to gawp after him in stunned silence.

Will was still stewing in his own bafflement when someone took up residence on the stool beside him. Will recognized her as the brunette from earlier in the evening.

“Oh, hey, you’re ummm… Cecelia?”

“Celia,” she corrected him with a warm smile.

“Sorry, I’ve had a few of these,” he said, holding up his tumbler.

“I don’t mean to intrude,” she started, “but I couldn’t help but overhear some of your conversation on account of you guys shouting some pretty weird shit.”

Will cringed. “Sorry about that, too. I swear to God I'm not a pervert.”

She made small, dismissive gesture with her hands. “I’m just here to offer you a little insight as to why you guys are being such terrible wingmen for each other.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“You’re dumbasses,” Celia said.

Will laughed. “Well, I don’t doubt that, but why in particular?”

“Because there’s nobody here that interests either of you as much as each other.”

Will blinked at her. “No, I—”

“He’s been making these dopey, sparkly eyes at you all night,” she said, “and _you_ blush like a goddamn freshman every time you look at _him_.”

Will’s hands flew to his cheeks as if he could feel any residual warmth. “No, I…I’ve been blushing because I’m uncomfortable talking to people.”

She rolled her eyes and swiveled her way off the stool. “Whatever. I’m certainly not _your_ wingman, either. I don’t care if you get laid or not, but I just thought you should know because it was getting kinda pathetic.”

She was halfway back to her own seat before Will forced himself to get up and follow her.

“Do you hate dogs?” he asked.

She looked instantly disgusted. “I have two elderly rescue pugs who’re practically my whole life,” she said. “I told your friend as much! Jesus Christ!”

Will made apologetic noises as he ran past her and into the men’s room.

He found Hannibal drying his hands and seemingly making every effort to avoid meeting his eyes.

"Why did you really want to come here tonight?"

"I told you," said Hannibal, who was taking an incredibly long time drying his hands.

"Oh, screw the social exercise nonsense," Will said. "Why did you really want to come here? Just tell me. _Please_."

"I thought we might enjoy a night out," Hannibal said, still not looking at him. "Together."

"You never meant to find anyone for me?" Will asked. "And never meant for me to find someone for you?"

Hannibal gave him a pained look, as if his ridiculously perfect tie had suddenly grown too tight for his neck. "Will, I'm embarrassed enough at having misjudged this evening without you making me say it."

“Well, too bad," Will said, shrugging. "Because I literally _just_ found someone for you."

“I’d rather just go home,” Hannibal said. “Pretend this whole night never happened."

Will caught his arm as he tried to brush past. “At least ask me who I found.”

Hannibal sighed. “Fine. Who?”

“Me,” Will said, and mashed his mouth onto Hannibal’s before he could analyze himself out of doing it.

It was a graceless kiss, executed with haste and a touch of drunkenness, and several moments passed in which Hannibal didn’t move one iota. Will's heart began to thump wildly as he silently cursed himself for ruining a friendship and a personal relationship all in one fell swoop.

But then...

Slowly, with obvious shyness, Hannibal’s hands came up to cup his face. Will felt Hannibal's thumbs gently circling his ears and his fingertips petting into his hair and pulling his face closer. Hannibal’s lips parting against his own felt like no small triumph, and an even bigger relief.

“Oh thank God,” Will breathed when they separated some time later. “I was afraid I’d misjudged things even after all that.”

Hannibal gave him the twinkly eyes—the same twinkly eyes he’d been making all night, and before then, too, now that Will thought back on it.

“I just have one question,” Will said, unable to keep the stupid grin off his face.

“What’s that?”

“Do you like dogs?”

Hannibal laughed. “I’m quite fond of yours.”

“Oh, thank God,” Will said again, and went in for another kiss.

 

 

-end-

**Author's Note:**

> I know it can be a bit of a cliche to have a female character act as nothing more than the deus ex machina to get two male characters together, but hopefully Celia, in her brief appearance, is enough of a person in her own right.


End file.
